Could be, and it’s all the fault of us rock-fixated thirtysomething groovers. As this piece from The Guardian suggests, there’s “a whole cast of characters, herded towards the cultural knacker’s yard like the cast of a geriatric Toy Story: Humpty Dumpty, Goosey Goosey Gander, the Grand Old Duke of York, Jack and Jill, a handful of mangy-looking black sheep and poor old Little Miss Muffet, clinging fretfully to her ‘tuffet’.”